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A Fresh Look at Democracy from the Desert

The owl cries out before the dawning light
To all the other desert dwellers, proclaiming
“I’m still here! Maybe you are too!”
But what a here it is,
Yuccas and saguaros marching forth
To cast their ballots somewhere out
Across the rocky, cactus-studded plains
While up above them, in high places
On Frog Mountain, clouds hold a summit
To determine the next legitimate President
Of this parched and broken terrain.
“Well, I’ll try it!” says the eager packrat.
“Oh, this job calls for far more patience
Than you can ever muster”
Quips the possum, showing his toothy grin.
“So let’s have the electrical college
Gather up and decide,” cries the cowbird.
Suddenly, a bolt of lightning hits
A wayward, rod-like limb of an ocotillo
And a strange current runs beneath them all.